


a kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear

by troubledpancakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Accidental Kissing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, the five times Clarke and Bellamy kissed without realizing and one time the camp finally pointed out for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear

**Author's Note:**

> _currently in the process of uploading all my old stuff from tumblr onto my ao3, bear with me._

**i.**

It started with the hug. Clarke had hurtled her small body into Bellamy, a bundle of bruises and blonde hair pressed against his hard lines. 

His arms were around her and his face was buried in her neck— eyes squeezed shut tightly, afraid she might disappear right before him.

She had grasped at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it away from his neck and she was pressing her mouth to his skin. It was honest and still— but it rang true and loud. 

Octavia’s eyebrow quirked at the sight— unsure if she should be intruding on such an intimate moment. Though it had been commonplace to see Bellamy flaunting a harem, half naked— it was unusual for Bellamy to express himself so vulnerably and intimately, completely naked to every emotion on his face.

They pulled away and it was business again, she hugged Octavia— and it was warm, but she wasn’t Bellamy.

**ii.**

Bellamy had pulled Clarke from the water— they wanted to sneak up on Mount Weather, so they decided to cross the water farther up stream and Clarke had slipped and gotten caught in the undercurrent. 

She’d managed to slow herself down and allow the group to race down the shore until they reached a small jutted area where Bellamy was able to reach in and grab her. 

They stood in each others arms, Clarke tucked under his chin, shaking while Bellamy cupped the back of her head. Her teeth were chattering so he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and he pressed his mouth to her hair— trying to soothe her.

Abby cocked her head— trying to understand the picture laid out in front of her. This boy— he had shot the chancellor, he had defied their authority every step of the way. But somehow, they had become companions, comrades— partners.

She watched the way Clarke reacted to his movements, as though their bodies being pressed together was second nature— and she trusted her daughter. Her body language spoke louder than words ever could.

**iii.**

They were running from the Mountain Men— 29, only 29 of them managed to get out. Clarke didn’t want to stop and think about what that meant.  _It was her fault_ , she kept telling herself. 

The forest was dark, she still hadn’t seen if Monty and Jasper had gotten out. Miller was beside them, the three of them with backs pressed against a large tree. 

Bellamy had thrown his arm out to stop them, and as they waited it had dropped to her lap— his fingers brushing up against her thigh and Clarke placed her own on top, squeezing it gently.

A loud crack resonated through the forest and Clarke pulled Bellamy’s hand to her chest— tucking it close to her face. Bellamy’s eyes were searching the darkness and Clarke’s mouth was hot on his knuckles. Bracing themselves to be discovered. 

Miller was breathing quietly, watching _them_  as much as he was watching the forest. They were linked, somehow. Even if not physically— their hearts and minds moved as one and Miller saw it— did they? 

Monty came into view, and Clarke let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding— jumping up as she threw her arms around him— Jasper just at his heels and pulling them into a giant bear hug. 

Bellamy’s fingers danced along the knuckles where Clarke’s mouth had just been. “We have to go,” he spoke firmly and Clarke nodded. Taking the lead as they continued to weave through the foliage. 

**iv.**

Sleeping arrangements had been tricky since the return of the forty-eight.  _29,_  Clarke reminded herself. Clarke found it difficult to sleep inside the Ark— too quiet, and the number of tents remaining was very limited. 

"You can sleep in my tent if you want," Bellamy offered.

Clarke nodded, “I’ll think about it.”

That night, Bellamy was lying awake on his pallet when he heard the rustle of the flaps. He turned to see Clarke shuffling through the entrance, and she bit back her lip anxiously.

Bellamy sat up and patted the bed, “Here— I can sleep on the floor.”

Clarke shook her head, “Don’t be silly, I don’t take up that much space— we’ll share.”

Bellamy swallowed and nodded, scooting over to make space for her. She slides under the blanket, turning on her side to face him.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime, Princess."

The next morning, they were tangled together and their foreheads were pressed together. Bellamy had begun to wake up and he tucked one of Clarke’s loose curls behind her ear— unaware of the tent flap opening, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

Raven cleared her throat, “Bellamy— the chancellor wants to see you.” 

Bellamy pulled away from Clarke, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. “Okay,” He grunted— retracting himself from bed and pulling on his boots. He lumbered past Raven and out of the tent and Raven’s eyes trailed from his exiting figure to the curled-up Clarke still asleep in his bed.  _Hm_ , she hummed to herself before following Bellamy across the courtyard.

**v.**

"We’re just going to follow up on the tip we got from Lincoln about a supply depot maybe two days hike from here— we should on be gone five days maximum."

Bellamy and Clarke were standing in the middle of camp as a small group prepared to leave. 

"Okay, be careful." Clarke said, and she reached up a pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. Bellamy pulled away and gave her hand a firm squeeze as he turned to leave and Clarke headed for the medical tent. 

She as she reached the flaps, Raven stopped her and gave her a confused look of concern. 

"What?" Clarke demanded.

"Uh, what, what? What the hell was that?"

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “What was what?” She looked around innocently. 

"You just kissed Bellamy!" 

"No, I didn’t!" Clarke exclaimed.

"Uh, yeah, you totally did."

Clarke got quiet, “Oh, my god.”

"Yeaaah," Raven tittered. 

**-**

Bellamy joined Miller, his father and another member of the guard outside the gate and fell into step with his second.

"Are you going to tell me why you’re staring at me, Miller?" Bellamy exacted. 

"Are you going to tell me what the hell you’re doing kissing Clarke in the middle of camp?"

"I— what?!" Bellamy stopped short, "I didn’t—  _oh, shit._ " Bellamy scratched his head. "Did I—"

Miller was nodding his head. 

"Whoa," Bellamy realized. 

"Yeah, whoa."

**\+ i.**

A week later, Bellamy returned to camp with the search party— several bags of supplies in tow. His eyes scanned the crowd for Clarke, but she was no where to be seen. 

They loitered around camp all day, people buzzing about the medical supplies and divvying out the new blankets and a few bars of soap. The whole time— Bellamy wondered where Clarke was.

"She’s out collecting herbs," Octavia broke through his thoughts.

"What— I wasn’t—"

"Yeah, you were."

Bellamy blushed, trying to avoid eye contact with his sister, who just rolled her eyes, “Just talk to her about it when she gets back, will you?”

Bellamy grunted as Octavia walked away.

Clarke still wasn’t home, and it was nearly dark. He retreated to his tent, perched on the bed with a book he had found at the depot, when the flaps of the tent got pushed back and Clarke appeared.

"Hi," she breathed. 

Bellamy felt his heart hammer against his chest.

"Hi," he replied.

"So…" she said shakily.

"So…"

Clarke opened her mouth again and then closed it. 

"Look," Bellamy rose to his feet, closing the distance between the two of them, "I don’t know what’s happening here."

Clarke nodded sadly, “It’s okay— we’re partners.”

Bellamy reached up, brushing her hair from her face— hand lingering against her cheek. “But, this— us, we’re more than that, right?”

Clarke nodded again.

"Do you trust me?"

"More than anything," she whispered.

And Bellamy crashed down into her, hotly pressing against her mouth— tongue sliding against the seam of her lips, allowing him to taste her. Their mouths moved together effortlessly, a soft moan escaping the back of Clarke’s throat as Bellamy tugged on her bottom lip. 

She was salty and his lips were rough— and he was heavy, pressed into her, hands splayed on her back as hers carded through his dark curls. 

They pulled apart, breathing hard as their noses continued to move against each other. 

"I’m glad you’re back," she offered, voice strained and lips swollen.

"Hm," Bellamy said as they rocked slowly, standing in the middle of tent— alone for once. 

"Would it maybe be okay if I stayed here tonight?"

"Tonight and any night, and all of the nights," he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> [xo](http://nathenmiller.tumblr.com/post/104501519254/5-times-clarke-and-bellamy-kissed-without)


End file.
